Blood and scrap
by Shira-Uso
Summary: Story takes place from the perspective of Artemis, a mechwarrior born in the Draconis Combine and former member of the DCMS. Follow her story as a mercenary in the aftermath of the War of 3039.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Alpheratz  
Outworld Alliance  
The Periphery  
2nd January 3041

_New year, new me... so they say…_ Artemis 'Maul' Kurian thought to herself, her lithe body leaning against the hard titanium-steel alloy armour of her Wolverine 6K's right leg, her arms crossed as her right shoulder rested her weight against her metal giant protector, her right leg crossed behind her left, her heel sticking up with the balls of her feet on the ground. The hot, poorly-conditioned temperature of the mech bay she and her metal behemoth stood in was just about every bit as disappointing and backwater as she would expect out of a spaceport in the Periphery, capital planet or not.

She found herself reaching behind her to the mech behind her. Her right hand grazed along the rough jagged surface of its damaged armour. A mech's feet rarely took direct fire from the enemy, but were also subject to projectiles from explosions. As a result, they rarely had armour replacements but were far from pristine. She stroked a small crater just above the mech's ankle joint. She had been through a lot with the mech; built an entire mercenary unit from scratch together, and watched it all fall apart together.

Standing at 5'10, the ethnic Japanese mechwarrior wore baggy beige coloured cargo pants with a plain black dri-fit shirt. Her body's shape was slender with a gentle curve around her chest, her shoulders and waist elegant and thin. Her long black ponytail flowed down from her high ponytail to past her hips. Her face had a strong jawline, with high cheekbones and fair smooth skin.

_Some lovely new me indeed, eh?_ Her eyes looked to Captain Roy of the Exiled Hell Jumpers, whose battle-scarred face was looking as grim as ever. "So this is how it all ends, huh?" A strained smile akin to that of a citizen of the ancient city of Pompeii cracked along her face.

Her mercenary unit, Hell Juggernauts', was nothing but bad news. Their last contract in the Inner Sphere had utterly skewered their fighting force, leaving just the Wolverine-6K and Phoenix Hawk-1K, along with just 2 platoons of Roy's company. Clearly unable to successfully take a good contract in the Inner Sphere, they moved into the Outworld Alliance, hoping to strike a gold mine. The Periphery took its turn to take a swing at them, though, and their dropship, tech crew and anything or anyone who wasn't on the battlefield during their mission on Mitchella, a planet in the Alliance, was kidnapped and taken by some unknown pirate gang..

"Ain't over yet, boss. The Hell Jumpers' still got one more mission in 'em." Roy's arms were crossed, his eyes on the steel giant behind her, his voice a low grunt. His shoulders were stiffened up in a stance that was seeping with military experience, while hers were slumped with exhaustion and resignation written all over them, a clear reflection of her expectations for their future.

"I don't know if the Juggernaut's got another mission in her." Artemis stared at Roy's weary expression, and let off a gentle sigh.

Roy's right eye twitched, and his gaze turned to her. His eyes spoke of disappointment in a once proud warrior. "Third time's the charm."

Artemis rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Third knockout blow's a TKO."

"Artemis." Roy's head cocked to a side ever so gently, as he took a step towards her. He paused for a few seconds, then stretched out his right arm towards her. Artemis resisted the urge to slap the hand away; Roy knew the boundaries, and she trusted him not to cross any. His hand slowly drifted towards her left torso, and opened up to grasp her left shoulder, but stopped himself from making physical contact with her. His right hand instead hovered just above her shoulder. "We've got this. You...'ve got this." His bright blue eyes stared into her very soul, dead serious, sending every nerve of the veteran Mechwarrior flying over the moon.

Her mind raced, shocks of adrenaline rolling across her body. Encouragement from her infantry captain was unprecedented. Despite their 2 years together as comrades in battle both on and off the battlefield, she had never seen him act this way before. Facing off against an Atlas would make her less nervous that she was right now. She tried to respond, but felt her throat stiffen up and just leave her out to dry. "I... wha..." _Roy has always either been serious or laid-back, completely and utterly binary. Why's he going cheerleader on me now? He must really want us to get off the ground and get pounded a third time on the battlefield…_

She raised her right hand, her fingers pushing his hand away from her thin shoulder blades. She shifted her weight off her Wolverine, walking away from the captain. Her hands rose up to her head, running her fingers through her slick jet black hair. "We can't. We don't have a dropship anymore, we lost a crap ton of infantry, the two Manticores aren't with us anymore, the Phoenix Hawk's cockpit still has a hole where…

Look, Hell's Juggernauts is screwed. Unless you've got one more bloody magical miracle to pull out your ass, [i]and[/i] another Mechwarrior, we're done." She turned back 'round to face him. The distance between the two leaders was now about 2 metres, and they began locking themselves back into a lasting exchange of eye contact. An awkward silence descended, as both wait for the other to offer up a proposal of future plans.

Roy just stood there, hands on his hips. His baggy green fatigues gently swayed with the wind of the mech bay's fans. Finally, he sighed. "I'll see if I can cook up some sort of turnaround for us. Maybe find some tech who isn't ready to watch a Kurita give up on herself." He turned to walk away, right hand sliding up to rub his temple.

Artemis rolls her eyes. "It's **Kurian**. I'm not a Kurita dammit!"

"Keep telling yourself that."


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Alpheratz

Outworld Alliance

The Periphery

2nd January 3041

"Another." Artemis raised her right hand, her gaze fixed upon the dull, plain glass mug before her. Residue unfinished alcohol at its bottom glittered gently in the dim lighting of the bar. The stocky bartender silently filled her mug with another batch of liquor. She slipped out a gold coin of some currency she couldn't be bothered to identify, and launched it at him with a flick of her thumb.

_What the heck am I going to tell my father…_

She raised the mug to her lips, tipping her head back to take a long swig of the burning, bitter alcohol. She rarely drank, as she never really understood what was so appealing about it. However, tonight's was a special occasion: the day she was finally ready to throw in the towel.

_Thank God I'll only have to listen to his damn lectures in the afterlife._

She broke into a soft chuckle to herself, her eyes finally breaking away from staring at her drink, and turned to look to a screen of some sorts. Up hanging from the ceiling on her left was a holo-screen, some nonsensical scandal news about House Avellar. Even in the Periphery, interest in the lives of pampered privileged buffoons was present. She let her eyes linger on the screen for a few more moments, before moving her gaze downwards to rest on the other drunkards occupying the left side of the bar.

_Remember how he said I wouldn't amount to anything useful when he saw my grades in my first year in the academy? Heh, look at me now…_

Artemis' mouth curled into a gentle smile.

_Sitting here in a bar, spending what little money I have left on drinks… Quite the useful daughter huh?_

"Pleasant evening, yeah?" A new presence slid himself onto the stool on her right. A quick mental check reminded her of her slight inebriation. Probably not the best time to conduct a conversation with some obviously infatuated fool.

"Pleasant time to be alone, yeah." She returned her body to its original sulken bent over posture, her gaze resting on her mug once again.

"I'm sure I could change your mind." He called for the bartender, and ordered a bottle of liquor. A bottle is swiftly placed in front of him, and he slipped a C-bill towards the barkeeper in response. His use of currency did not escape her, though her somewhat alcohol-influenced consciousness could not care less. "Want some?"

"Screw off." She grunted, taking a swig out of her beer.

"Look, I'm trying to be nice here." He rotated his torso to face her, his hands removing his bottle cork with a distinctive 'pop'.

"Can't possibly imagine what you're otherwise like then." She chuckled drily.

"Want to find out? A fine woman ain't gonna get a free swing at my ego and get away with it, I can promise you that." He rested his right elbow on the bar counter, taking a quick sip of liquor before placing the bottle on the counter. His hands dramatically curled themselves into fists.

"Try me." A chuckle escaped her lips as she took one last swig out of her drink, before turning her own torso to face him. Her weary eyes took their time to assess him. _This should be interesting._

She saw the punch being thrown in his eyes years before he actually threw it. As his right shoulder twitched to begin the violent action, she sent out her own left arm forward to block it with her forearm. The impact rocked her slender frame. Pain wasted no time, the sting of the blocked punch shooting up from the point of contact. She retaliated with her right arm, propelling it forward in a bashing attack. As expected, he blocks it with his left elbow. Her right knee then launched out into his belly, her hips twisting to give the attack more strength.

He stumbled back in recoil, as a grunt of pain escaped his lips. He would get no respite from her, though. She stepped forward, swinging a right hook at his face. He blocked, and she faked an attack with her right knee, before giving him a lightning fast left uppercut into his chin. Not letting him recover, she squatted and compressed her body into a more ball-like shape, and gave him a right jab. He swung his right arm at her in desperate retaliation, only for her to slide past it. She sprang up with a jump, her body twirling in mid-air as she swung a full roundhouse kick into his side.

He fell back from the force of the kick, his body sprawling all over the bar counter on his right. She stood over him, fists at the ready. Right hook, left hook, then a smash of her right fist onto his face. Her blows of unmeasured strength left him grunting out in pain, but too stunned to fight back. Not bothering to survey the damage done, she stepped away from his heavily beaten body, letting off a light sigh of satisfaction. The surrounding patrons of the bar stared at her with a variety of faces; surprise, intrigue, annoyance, confusion, and so on. She paid them no mind, reaching over to her drink on the counter and finishing it..

"I don't care if you were drunk! That was totally stupid of you!" Roy's booming voice rang in her ears, as he stepped back, his fingers running through his short military-cut hair. His eyes looked to the hospital bed, where the man Artemis beat up earlier in the evening laid unconscious. They had brought the man to one of the spare rooms available in their rented barracks facility after one of Roy's privates watched the whole fight unfold and called him. Possibly unnecessary, but after what Artemis did to him, it was the least they could do. One of the Exiled Hell Jumpers' medics had come over before Roy arrived, having checked and confirmed that the victim had not sustained any serious injuries.

The other outsider in the room watched Roy give Artemis an all-out dressing down. He was the man Roy was told to call while they were on their way to the barracks. Roy looked to him, then back to the bed, then back to Artemis. "I would expect better out of you. You're in command, yet I find myself having to scold you. Why?"

"Alright Roy, I get it. Somehow keep my cool when I'm freakin' drunk. Can you shut up about it now? We're not on the battlefield right now, you're not the boss of me." Artemis rolled her eyes, breaking away from his gaze to stare at the ceiling. Roy gritted his teeth. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and burned holes into her cheek with his eyes for a good long minute before finally turning away, instead rotating his body to face the outsiders.

"I'm terribly sorry for what my friend here did. I hope we can find some sort of agreement on a compensation for…"

"Anders. His name is Anders, and I'm Bryan. I wouldn't worry too much about it. I'm sure Anders is just as guilty as she is. We'll see what he thinks when he wakes up again, though. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to make a call." Bryan offered a polite smile, before making his way out of the room.

Roy swerved back around to face Artemis. "I still can't believe you went and did something that dumb. Trying to show off your family's traditional martial arts? Look what you did. I don't even know what this'll do for our reputation. A two mech company is screwed as it is, without its only mechwarrior running around beating other people up just because she can't hold her drink."

"Oh shut up Roy. You're out of line here, so back off. Also, aren't you the one who told me we're still in business?"

"That was before I watched a talented mechwarrior get drunk and beat up some random guy!"

"Oh for f-"

Anders' suddenly stirred from unconsciousness, which cut the heated exchange short. The two warriors turned to look to the man in question. Anders sat up in his bed, droopy weary eyes looking to the two other souls in the room. "Somebody said 'mech'."

Artemis raised an eyebrow at him, perplexed by his weird, borderline delirious statement. The door opened, revealing Bryan, who took in the whole scene in one glance.

"Bryan, I think we've found ourselves a new team of mercenaries."

"Sorry?" Artemis stepped forward, her hands on her hips.

"What's your name, miss?"

"Kurian. Artemis Kurian."

"Well Kurian, I need a fresh team of mercenaries to work for me. I've got a fantastic contract with a drop and jumpship just waiting around."

"Define a team of mercenaries. I've got two mechs and me as our only mechwarrior. Not much of a 'jolly good' team of mercenaries."

"You've got an extra mech? That's your head technician Bryan over there, and you've got an extra mechwarrior, right [i]here[/i]." His index fingers curled inwards to point at himself, the injured recently beaten up man under bed sheets. His lips formed a smug smile, his head leaning back to rest against his bed backboard in delusional self-awe. The room's occupants stare at him silently for a few moments, at a loss for words.

"Anders, you're still injured." Bryan piped up, his arms crossed as his bright blue eyes regarded the blabbering mechwarrior.

"I'm fine. I can go right now." His head rolled back down, his hands grabbing and pulling his sheets off. His swung his legs off the bed, and got up to…

Tumble down to hit the floor.

"Clearly." Artemis rolled her eyes, and her gaze wandered off to look upon something more interesting.

"I'm fine! Just a couple of bruises." He jumped back up to his feet, dusting off imaginary dust and straightening his black leather jacket. "She [i]bruised[/i] me up good, that's all."

"Artemis, I've done a full inspection of both mechs. The Wolverine sustained a few bad hits in its last battle, but repairs are doable. The Phoenix Hawk's cockpit will take a while to patch up, but it's not much of a problem." Bryan held a datapad in his hands, his eyes giving its contents one last look before bathing her in their gaze. The two were standing in front of Artemis' Wolverine; Bryan had paged for her through a radio-contactor. The heat of the poor air-conditioning of the mech bay left droplets of sweat trickling down the head tech, whose bright blue eyes met Artemis' hazel brown. Artemis barely felt the heat; it was nothing compared to being cooked alive in an overheating mech.

"Both mechs are K variants. You've got quite a taste for House Kurita's arsenal, don't you?"

Artemis looked him in the eye, and let off a light sigh. "Hell's Juggernauts was formed from a bunch of Dieron Regulars who were done working for the Combine, whether it's because they were kicked out of the DCMS, or simply didn't like the pay."

"What's your story then? House Kurian sounds awfully similar to House Kuritan." Bryan raised an eyebrow, his eyes carefully watching her reaction.

Artemis almost flinched at the mention of her family's name, but resisted the urge to overreact. "I left the DCMS in 3039, when my family was killed during the Battle of Alnasi. Damn Combine took too damn long to respond, and left such a small force to defend such a critical world. I took my Wolverine with me and formed Hell's Juggernauts from scratch, making a good profit out of the war's chaos."

"And House Kurian?" Bryan tilted his head ever so slightly.

Artemis held back an eyeroll. "My family name is a long story. Kurian sounds a heck lot like Kuritan, but we're not Kuritans. I was raised among warriors, warriors who died over the many wars in the past few centuries. My father himself was a retired member of the Sword of Light, and probably died fighting on Alnasi when it was invaded."

"But what about-" Bryan continued to indulge in his curiosity, only to be interrupted by Artemis.

"I don't want to talk about my family. Maybe some other time." She broke eye contact, her right hand instinctively sliding up to brush a stray strand of hair out of her vision.

Before he could send another barrage of questions, she quickly turned to leave, making her way towards the bay's exit, right up until she saw Anders, dressed in brown trousers and a black leather jacket, standing in a laid-back relaxed position. He was talking to some well-dressed noble who was clearly out of place.

"Ah Artemis, right on time. This is our new employer, Minister Gordon of the Deep Worlds' Collective."

"Pleasure to meet you, Artemis." Minister Gordon stretched out his right hand for a handshake, one that Artemis obliged to, her eyes silently analysing the man as the two exchanged pleasantries.

"Bryan tells me that you're his partner in this newly formed mercenary unit." His attire was totally spotless, possibly bordering OCD. His freshly pressed black suit told of his wealth, and probably was also bringing him great discomfort, judging from the beads of sweat present on his face — the heat of the mech bay showed no mercy. His voice was smooth, yet firm. His face featured a weak jawline and low cheekbones, with combed short black hair. His dark blue eyes stared into hers, no doubt analysing her in a similar fashion.

"So we are. I've never heard of the Deep Worlds' Collective." Artemis offered a polite smile, and retracted her hand from the handshake.

"Most outside of the Deep Periphery have not. It's an alliance of systems that share collective protection from bandits. We need more mercenaries to garrison our worlds, hence my presence here."

"As long as you guys have the bucks, we'll make sure your days of getting plundered are over."

"I would expect so out of a mechwarrior who pilots a mech so…" He turned to marvel at the sheer size of her Wolverine, as a small grin curled into existence on Anders' face.

"Trust me. On the battlefield, she's a lot more dangerous than beautiful." She allowed herself to smile at the awe-struck minister.

"Let us hope so, for both our sakes." His face shifted back to face her, nodding and offering a smile before turning his attention towards Anders.

"I take it your unit has a name?"

"Sure as the Inner Sphere has a planet named Earth in it." He smiled confidently, his yellow teeth showing themselves in the brightly-lit mech bay.

"Kurian's Bruisers, that's who we are."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Alpheratz  
Outworlds Alliance  
The Periphery  
3rd January 3041

_Kurian's Bruisers?! Is this supposed to be some sort of half-baked joke?_ Artemis 'Maul' Kurian's eyes darted towards Anders, her new found partner in a newly-formed mercenary unit. The mercenary unit name he had just given to their unit's first client was a clear joke about the way they met yesterday; her fist to his face. Anders wore a confident smile, his hands in his cargo pockets, while his weight mostly rested on his right leg. She saw not a hint of smugness anywhere on him.

Protesting over the name would surely display discord in their unit before their client's eyes, and would no doubt work to her disadvantage somehow. She swiftly swept her anger under an imaginary rug, and bit her lips. She turned to face Minister Gordon, their client, and offered a quick smile and a nod.

"Kurian's Bruisers. Right. I shall inform the Deep Worlds' Collective Central Command of your acceptance of the contract as soon as I get back. The details of your first assignment are with your partner. I hope to hear about your success in the Deep Worlds soon." Minister Gordon politely nodded to Anders, before turning on his heel and making his way out of the dreadfully hot mech bay, his black leather dress shoes clacking against the ferro-concrete floor of the mech bay, a sound that shortly found itself drowned out by the dull background noises of techs at work.

As soon as the minister was out of earshot, Artemis' polite smile evaporated. Her head snapped around and gave Anders a drop-dead glare. "Kurian's Bruisers? Seriously?" She hissed, her sharp tone piercing through the mech bay's noise like a vibroblade through butter.

Anders' eyes widened, his confident demeanor broken for a split-second, before snapping back. "Oh sorry, I forgot to ask what your unit's previous name was."

"Hell's Juggernauts. Maybe you should have let me answer that question, don't you think?" She leaned forward and cocked her head ever so slightly, her eyes narrowing on him.

"Oh it's fine. Kurian's Bruisers is a much better name at any rate. No worries." Anders' muscles relaxed, his lips forming another one of his usual carefree everything's-fine smiles.

Artemis felt just about ready to beat him up once again. She stepped forward, her right hand propelling forward and grabbing him by the collar. She yanked him toward her a few centimetres. Her piercing hazel brown eyes scowled at him menacingly, demanding his full attention. "Listen here, and listen good. You'd better work with me properly, or I'll make sure I beat you up properly the next time we tango. Clear?"

Anders nodded slowly. His eyes had widened ever so slightly, his smile completely torn off his face, with not a trace of it left. Satisfied, Artemis released him, his upper torso leaning back into an upright position as the force from Artemis' hand disappeared.

He now donned a more serious, respectful look as he straightened up his olive V-neck shirt. His tongue ran over his teeth within his mouth, a slight bulge from his tongue sticking out from his right cheek. His eyes consciously avoided eye contact with her, instead fixing themselves onto the floor behind her. She would have retired from the mech bay to avoid more awkward feelings, but there was still work to do.

_A leader doesn't lead with intimidation. Didn't your superiors teach you this, Kurian-chan?_ Her father's aged voice echoed annoyingly in her head.

_Shut up, Kurian-otousan._

_You know he's right._ Her conscience chimed in. It always knew exactly when to be a nuisance to her. She rolled her eyes, before turning her focus back to the matter at hand: Anders.

"What's the information on the planet we're being assigned to?" Her hands slid down to rest on her hips, her gaze following his downcast eyes.

"We're actually going to garrison a total of 4 systems. The Deep Worlds Collective only employs a small number of mercenary units, moving them and their mechs around to deploy as reinforcements whenever any of their planets are raided or invaded. With the exception of their capital, their planets usually rely on local militia to handle threats until reinforcements arrive." Anders' eyes darted from side to side occasionally, and it seemed he was actively avoiding her eyes. She decided she would rather have him nervous around her than totally undisciplined, though.

_Mistakes are a test to our ability to apologise._ Her father's voice seeped back into her consciousness once again, sending a shiver rolling down her spine.

_Shut it._

"What's their militia like? Do we have any other mercenary units to back us up?" Artemis' eyebrows twitched at random intervals, her body language relaxed, save for her eyes that studied Anders' every move intently.

"As far as I'm aware, they have a few Manticores, Goblins, and a lot of Strikers and Bulldogs. If attackers are packing 'mechs, the battles are normally fights to buy time. Whenever an attack comes around, the JumpShip stationed in their system will immediately jump to a system with the stationed garrison. The garrison is informed, and the relief force takes off in their DropShips, jump with their system's stationed Jumpship to the attacked system. It's barely acceptable, but it's possibly the best a Deep Periphery state can do with only a few mech units." Anders continued his quest to avoid eye contact, his gaze drifting and wandering around the floor.

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "Each system has a Jumpship?"

"Yeah, it's the only thing the most worlds around here have in abundance. I'm guessing they found an abandoned Jumpship construction platform or cache or something some time back."

"This is going to be a tough contract, especially with what we have at the moment."

Anders finally looked up, his eyes meeting hers. "You sure you can pilot that Wolverine properly?"

Artemis narrows her eyes. "You just make sure you watch my back. You do that, and I'll make sure I work my magic."

Anders chuckled. _Seems like he's finally grown his balls back._ He stretched out his right hand for a handshake. "You work your magic, and Kurian's Bruisers will be in business." Artemis rolled her eyes at the use of the new mercenary unit's name, but stretched out her own right hand. The two shook hands, their minds in accord with one another for once. Artemis departed from the mech bay afterwards, while Anders continued to linger.

^

The next few days flew by, with Kurian's Bruisers mostly settling logistical matters. The mercenary unit had to transport all assets of the now extinct Hell's Juggernauts over to Anders' Dropship. They lifted off a few days after the unit had finished packing up, with the Leopard class _Irish Dreams_ leaving the surface of Alpheratz IV to make for the Jumpship awaiting them at the Zenith point.

The _Irish Dreams_ finally began to dock with the _Invader_ class _Germinator_on day 15 of Kurian's Bruisers existence.

^

Artemis, Roy and Anders floated in zero-G outside the bulkhead of the _Irish Dreams'_ docking port, the three in a bit of a triangle formation: Artemis positioned in the front, flanked by the other two. The door finally began to slide open, revealing the captain of the Jumpship, dressed smartly in a white uniform.

"Captain Benedict, at your service ma'am." Benedict nodded with a smile and stretched out his right hand, a handshake that Artemis accepted.

"Artemis Kurian, former Lieutenant of the 9th Dieron Regulars." Artemis offered a smile as she shook his hand. She did not like bringing up her former position in the DCMS, but boasting of her 'proud' achievements in her military service was almost obligatory thanks to tradition.

Benedict looked to the two men flanking Artemis, and offered each a polite smile before turning back to Artemis. "I trust we have a heading, ma'am?"

"The Deep Worlds' Collective, captain. Do you have the coordinates?" Artemis maintained eye contact with the captain. First impressions were always something she found stressful.

Captain Benedict's pearly white teeth showed themselves for the fourth time, as his muscles relaxed a few notches at the mention of their destination. "Of course ma'am. To the Deep Worlds' Collective we go."

^

It took about two and a half weeks to leave Outworlds Alliance territory. Each jump took the Bruisers further and further from the Inner Sphere, and farther and farther into the unknown of the Deep Periphery.

The journey was dull and boring for Artemis, who never particularly liked space travel. Her Transit Disorientation Syndrome ensured most of her interstellar travels were miserable, each jump between solar systems leaving her horribly nauseated for a few hours.

She spent most days continuing to refresh her memory of 'mech schematics; information that was almost as important as food to her. Aside from that, her days went by with mundane idling around, with occasional short conversations with Bryan over non-family related topics of interest. Bryan as a mechtech always had useful and interesting insights to share, and was pleasant to speak with.

^

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Outworlds Verge." Samson, captain of the Kurian's Bruisers Dropship _Irish Dreams_, announced to those present in the bridge. Samson sat snugly in the bridge's command chair, buckled firmly into his seat by an array of seat belts.

Artemis sat in a passenger seat behind the command chair, buckled in. Her gaze remained fixed on the warping space outside the viewport of the dropship, watching as the short-lived light show of hyperspace vanished as quickly as it came, revealing the view of a faraway star that marked the first solar system beyond the Outworlds Alliance. Her stomach almost immediately began rolling into loops of nausea. She gritted her teeth and held back the insistent urges to vomit. _Oh how I love space travel.__  
_  
The Outworlds Verge was simply the space rimward of the Outworlds Alliance, containing not only the Outworlds Wastes but the deep periphery beyond it, stretching far and wide, arguably until the Elysian Fields. The Outworlds Verge was littered with humanity and its marks; failed, struggling and stable colonies and empires appearing and disappearing under the hand of countless pirate organisations.

The Outworlds Verge's main appeal lied in its abundance of resource-rich planets, a fact that remained elusive to the greedy but ignorant inhabitants of the Inner Sphere. Empires and colonies rose with the goal of reaping grand profits from harvesting the multitude of resources, usually only to be subjected to constant raids from bandits.

Rumour had it that the Oberon Confederation and Taurian Concordat had bases and units stationed in the Verge out of interest for the abundant resources available, but in a region of space that relied on Jumpship courier messages in the absence of a Comstar Hyperpulse Generator network, such information was difficult to collect and verify.

"Space sick much, Lieutenant?" Anders chuckled to himself. He was seated beside the attractive pretty face who beat him up just a few weeks prior, and savoured the sight of watching her suffer.

"It's Commander to you, Mechwarrior ****." Artemis managed through the intense tsunami of mental disorientations that smashed into her head. _I should have taken the pills. _She quickly found herself regretting her decision to be on the bridge during this milestone achievement of entering their potential new home. _Whoever thought up this idea was an idiot._

"It is at this juncture, Commander, that I would like to mention you are here on the bridge despite your TDS of your _own_ accord." Anders began grinning from ear to ear, enjoying every second of his valuable new-found gloating session.

"Ma'am, do you need any assistance?" Captain Samson spun his command chair around to face the two, his bright blue eyes looking to Artemis.

"Clearly I'm totally fine." Artemis grunted stiffly, bending over her lap to rest her head horizontally between her legs, high ponytail flowing over the top of her head to float around in the zero-G environment. "Just enjoying the magic of space travel."

^

Reaching the Outworlds Verge was only the first step of entering the Deep World Collective. The _Germinator_ had several more jumps before reaching the border systems of the Deep Worlds' Collective.

Due to the lack of a Hyperpulse Generator Network, news of Kurian's Bruisers joining the Collective's mercenary forces had not reached most of the state's systems, a fact that could quickly lead to misunderstandings with planetary security forces. Though this would pose no threat to the mercenary unit, it could definitely be incredibly inconvenient for both sides.

Thankfully, Minister Gordon seemed to have left much earlier and got the information dispersed rather swiftly, as the _Germinator_ received zero apprehensive hails from systems they passed through. Most short day stays in Collective systems featured amicable enough communication with occupied planets, including transmission of appropriate coordinates for their assigned garrison world.

The Germinator's relatively eventless interstellar trip ended though, when they reached the Ashon system, 2 jumps away from Heran, their designated garrison base system.

Artemis took Transit Disorientation Syndrome (TDS) countering sleeping pills during most jumps, so as to avoid the dreadful fits of disorientation she experienced every time she went through a jump. However, she found herself waking up from her medicine-induced deep sleep hours early, to hear incessant knocking against her quarters' door.

Shaking off any residual sleep from her mind, she slipped off her bed and floated toward the door. _Probably Anders._ She swung the door open to reveal a clearly bored Anders hanging on to the wall beside her door. _It's him. What a surprise._

"You're a minute late." Anders said and narrowed his eyes on her. At that instant her mind conducted a quick mental check to make sure she was decently dressed. She was wearing a black t-shirt with brown cargo pants, her long jet black hair cascading freely in zero-g.

"What is it Anders." Artemis rolled her eyes, opening the door all the way before withdrawing her right hand from it. Her hand slid up to her hip, her piercing hazel brown eyes staring him down.

A paramedic gave her a shot to help her wake up early, and left the room afterwards. The drugs took a few minutes to take effect, and Anders had been waiting for a _whole_ minute extra for the commander to wake up.

"We received a call for help from the surface upon entering the system. It's sitting in the bridge, waiting for your attention.." Anders pushed off from the wall to stand upright, and crossed his arms.

"I'll be there in 5 minutes. Meet me there." Artemis replied with a gentle nod of acknowledgement before closing the door. She quickly stripped off her clothes and tossed them toward her bed, before changing into loose olive fatigues and her black coat. She grabbed her handgun on her way out, checking its magazine before slipping it into her right coat pocket. _A warrior is always prepared for war at a moment's notice._ One of her father's many 'essential' teachings echoed in her mind as she sailed through the corridors that led to the bridge,_ So you'd better be sure your preparations are not sloppy._

_Not like bringing a handgun helps in a ship this far from a planet anyways…_

Finally, she reached the closed hatch leading to the bridge. With a swipe of her hand over the console beside the door, the two heavy metal doors slid open to reveal the familiar view of the _Irish Dreams'_ bridge. "What's the situation, captain?" She gently sailed through the weightless air into the centre of the bridge, where Captain Samson was seated in his command chair, his eyes glued to a datapad. Anders floated beside him, his neck craned over to read the datapad.

At the sound of her voice, the two turned to face her. Captain Samson gave a graceful nod, zero-G preventing him from rendering a proper bow. The respectful officer never failed to honour ethnic Japanese traditions she found herself hopelessly bound to.

"We have a situation. When we jumped into the system, we received a distress signal from the forces on Ashon III. Here, I'll play it for you." Samson pressed a button on the right armrest of his command chair. The bridge was immediately filled with a radio transmission.

"Come in, to any nearby spacecraft, we need immediate reinforcements. We're under attack by pirate forces, and require relief as soon as possible. I repeat, we are under attack, and require assistance…" The recording faded out, leaving the room in silence. Artemis found herself stared at by every eyeball on the bridge, from Captain Samson and Anders to the other crew present.

She gave a gentle sigh, her hand sliding up to grasp her hip thoughtfully, the other firmly clamped to a nearby handgrip to prevent her from floating away. Her eyes looked to the deck, her mind racing as she mentally went through her options. _To abandon a world under the protection of their employers would be dishonourable, akin to betraying them, but…_

"We're not being paid to protect some random other world." Anders piped up, clearing up the silence, his feet braced so he could cross his arms in zero-G.

"Why wouldn't they pay us? We were hired to protect them from pirates." Artemis looked up, and squinted slightly at him.

"We've been assigned to 4 systems, and this ain't one of 'em." He replied, narrowing his own eyes.

"We've been hired to fight off pirates for them. Here are some pirates, and thus we must fight for them."

"So we will fight for free?"

"We will fight because we will honour our contract. They'll pay us or we'll pay them hell."

Artemis turned to address the rest of the bridge. Her eyes first rested on Captain Samson.

"Captain, I want us detached and on our way to Ashon III ASAP."

Then to Roy. "Roy, get your troops ready to deploy. I want all elements squared away by the time we hit the ground."

"I'll prep the 'mechs." Bryan nodded, speaking up before Artemis could address him. Artemis nodded back to him with a subtle smile tucked away in the corner of her mouth.

Finally, she looked back to Anders. "I'm getting onto the battlefield with or without your help. So you either get your ass on the surface with me or watch your delusions of grandeur die with those pirate scum."

Heaving another gentle sigh, she turned to make for the bridge's doors. "Good luck to us all."


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Alegro IV

Outworlds Alliance

The Periphery  
28 December 3040

The memories of Artemis' last bloody battle just a few weeks back still haunted her dreams, so vivid each and every time it almost seemed like she was experiencing the whole ordeal all over again...

Boom. The dull sound of another artillery shell hitting the surrounding area rippled through the air, the accompanying shockwave rocking Artemis 'Maul' Kurian in the cockpit of her Wolverine-6K. She felt sweat trickle down her forehead as the heat of her mech radiated onto her body, only barely kept at acceptable levels by the cooling vest strapped to her chest.

She spied her heat levels in the corner of her vision, as she gripped her right joystick hard, bringing her Wolverine's right arm to bear, letting loose a bright crimson beam from her mech's Large Laser. The deadly hot beam struck the middle of the enemy Vulcan's center torso, stripping away the last of its engine shielding. The slender metal giant fell onto its back as the mini sun in its chest grew out of control, enveloping its upper body for a few moments before fading away in a brilliant light show of explosions.

"Nice shot, Maul." Mechwarrior Norman's deep voice crackled over the radio into her ears. "Told you this'd be easy eh? Damn turkey shoot."

"Haha sure. Just wait till you get to tank the hits." Artemis rolled her eyes, her mouth curling to form a smile as she pulled the throttle into neutral. The Wolverine slowed to a stop, smoking from heated combat. Behind her, Norman's Phoenix Hawk continued jogging through the hot cracked badlands of Alegro IV to catch up.

"I don't see any need to tank when I've got the Periphery's best jock on the job," Norman chuckled over the radio. Artemis coughed as she resisted a giggle, rolling her eyes once again.

The shockwave of another artillery shell hitting the ground on her far right and the barking of Captain Roy over the communication channel immediately brought her back to the current moment, though. "Kids! We're still in this fight! I'm taking heavy losses! We've been ambushed by an Anti-infantry Spider! Get over here and fix this crap!" His voice hollered through the crackling radio over the sounds of gunfire.

"Copy that, We're en route." Norman replied. Artemis pushed her throttle up, the dull sounds of her mech's footsteps filling her cockpit once again.

The Hell's Juggernauts were making a desperate attempt to get back on their feet after some devastating contracts in the Inner Sphere, having been hired to drive out pirate forces from the system. The battle plan was simple: Artemis and Norman were to engage the enemy's mech forces in a standard straight up battle, creating a diversion while Roy's infantry would engage the enemy's vulnerable artillery pieces with their two Manticore tanks, crippling the pirate's main offensive forces in one swift strike.

The mech battle was straightforward enough, with Artemis and Norman quickly coming out on top over the small disorganized medium and light mech force. Roy's attack though, was meeting several snags. One of the Manticore tanks had been blown up by a conventional fighter, and an enemy Spider armed with a machine gun was apparently lying in ambush with the artillery, along with a sizable combined infantry and conventional armour force.

The artillery formation was located behind a small congregation of hills. Artemis and Norman quickly began moving towards the hills in the east at a good speed, thanks to their mech's respectable speed capacity.

The hills were now just a few hundred metres away, the humps of red dry ground swiftly growing closer and closer in the monitors of Artemis' cramped cockpit. "I find myself once again in awe of the incredible skill a fine lady like yourself has with a mech." _Does he always have to flirt when it's quiet?_

She rolled her eyes, lifting her left hand off the throttle to wipe her sweat off her face. "Fine ladies don't pilot mechs. Just badasses and dumb men."

"This one's an exception though. Want me to prove it?" Artemis' cheeks blushed warm and red. Memories of the posh dinner he treated her to before they moved out of the Inner Sphere flooded her mind. _Last time I ever wore a dress…_

"Oh shut up will you? What if Roy's listening in…" She bit her lower lip, trying to suppress the blushing. She turned her head to look to her right, as if Norman was sitting opposite her for some reason.

"Oh you're cute when you're cross." She could sense his affectionate adoration through the crackling voice over the radio. She breathed a sigh, rolling her eyes once again. Her gaze continued to hover around her right, avoiding the imaginary Norman in front of her.

"Screw off."

"You're proving my point." He began chuckling, and she swiftly closed the radio channel to give a pseudo-slap to the face. _I'll give him hell when we're done here._

Radio silence descended upon the duo as they continued on towards the enemy artillery formations. About over a kilometre out from their destination, their relatively eventless journey crashed to an end when a barrage of autocannon shells blew into Norman's Phoenix Hawk's frontal armour.

_What the heck? There isn't supposed to be any opposition over here…_ Artemis opened a radio channel with Norman, her left hand gently pulling back her throttle to slow down her speed by a quarter. "Norman, what's your status?" The attack was unlikely to get through his pristine armour, but she still awaited his response with bated breath.

"Heck of a salvo. AC/20 I'm guessing. Why the heck is there enemy opposition over here?" Norman sounded scarcely affected by the sudden attack, calm as always.

"Hell if I know. Where did it come from?" Artemis' mind focused up on the various displays and controls laid out before her. A mech's myriad of various distinct buttons, levers and readings may be overwhelming to the untrained eye, but the extension of one's body to the trained. She powered up her mech's weaponry, watching her lasers charge up and her SRMs load into their pods on the screens on her left and right respectively. She instinctively took a quick glance at her SRM's ammo count — more than enough for another tango with a mech. _Round two it is. Bring it on._

"Rocks to the right. I'm engaging." Norman's voice crackled over the comm channel as his Phoenix Hawk rotated accordingly, an aqua blue beam of light burning forth from his large laser, followed by the mech's lesser green beams from its medium lasers.

A cluster of large rocks sat 2 o'clock from Artemis' position. Stationed just to the left of the rocks, partially hidden behind cover, camouflaged bright brown sat a Hunchback, it's formidable AC/20 smoking from its deadly volley.

_Hunchback-4G, no doubt. AC/20, two medium lasers and a small laser. Ammo's in the left torso just above where a heart would be._ Artemis grabbed a sensor lock on the lone foe, her mind flooding her consciousness with all relevant information on the opposing metal titan. The sensors' data report flashed up on the secondary view screen in front of her, confirming the enemy's identity with a readout of its weapons and chassis model.

She pumped her throttle up to 100%, adjusted her mech's course slightly and rotated its torso to face the adversary. Her targeting reticle quickly found itself hovering over the enemy. She locked in the target and gave it a full alpha strike, the full brunt of her Wolverine's firepower bursting forth.

Her SRM launchers fired their payloads, missiles flying straight and true into the stationary Hunchback. Two hit its right torso, two on its centre torso, another on its right leg, while one pounded on the rock covering the Hunchback's left torso. Explosions rippled across the Hunchback's armour, stripping a good portion of it off. Meanwhile, her lasers burned into its right torso, melting off whatever armour was left after Norman's salvo. Bright red molten titanium alloy flowed from the mech's wound, dripping onto the ground to join the armour already melted away.

The Hunchback was a bit slow to react, eating nearly the entirety of Artemis' laser burn before finally reversing, moving to hide behind the rock cover and no doubt wait for its AC/20 to cycle for another barrage.

"I'm coming around the left. Move up and we'll take him together." Artemis' Wolverine circled around the rock in a semi-circle shape, her mech almost moving into view of the back of the rock face, where the Hunchback was hiding. She took a quick glance at her heat levels, which were already slowly coming down to a more healthy level. Her weapons' displays flashed green one by one, ready for another alpha strike.

Copy that, boss.." Norman's Phoenix Hawk jogged forward to take up position just beside the rock on the left side, ready to move in.

"I'm in position. Let's go." Artemis kept her throttle up at full speed, setting her mech on a diagonal course past the rock's front face, her targeting reticle resting on where the Hunchback would be in a few moments. Norman pushed forward in tandem with Artemis, his weapons pointed straight at the enemy which quickly came into view.

The Hunchback's AC/20 flashed as it let loose a volley at Artemis who came into view first. Metal slugs bursting forth in a deadly volley. However, with the distance Artemis had made between the two of them, the AC/20's effectiveness was limited as Artemis ran forward at full speed. _Textbook._ Artemis smirked to herself, readying a good lock on her target, fingers on the triggers, ready to nail the Hunchback's exposed right torso. Her heart raced with anticipation, adrenaline surging with the rush of battle. Glorious combat; she lived for this.

Just as she was ready to savour victory, everything went horribly wrong. Norman had moved up, his Phoenix Hawk entering the pathway of the Hunchback's would-be failed volley. Most of the slugs had already flown past him, but not all. Three of them slammed into the Phoenix Hawk, specifically into its head. Artemis' heart sank as she watched the events unfold, fear rushing into her consciousness to turn the adrenaline against her. Her heart that was beating away furiously a moment ago felt frozen up, as panic mounted and readied for a coup over her mind.

Small shockwaves rippled from the points of impact, sending metal shards from both slugs and the Phoenix Hawk's cockpit scattering into the air as tiny missiles that only spelt more doom for the mech's pilot. The slender mech stumbled backward, as smoke billowed from the mech's fatal wound.

Any desperate hope of a fluke survival of a headshot shrivelled up and died in her as she watched the Phoenix Hawk tumble over onto the ground, lifeless. _He's dead. Norman's freaking dead._ She felt despair letting itself in to join fear, despair culturing and festering terror, and terror producing-

_Shut it Artemis! You're still in this fight!_ She mentally slapped herself back into her mech's cockpit — armed, dangerous and still very much alive. Her hands clenched her mech's dual joysticks tight, fingers ready on the triggers. She the targeting retie back on the Hunchback, sacrificing half a second for a precise aim on its exposed right torso.

She released a full alpha strike on the enemy, her laser salvo melting off any remnants of the right torso's armour and hand. Her SRMs surged forth alongside deadly blue, green and red beams of light. Two SRMs flew wide of the target, one pounding its payload into the Hunchback's centre torso armour, while only three made it to the mech's right torso. Three proved to be more than sufficient for the job, though, as the three missiles' explosive impacts smashed into the ruined side, blowing off its AC/20.

Without its main cannon, the Hunchback's return fire was pathetic at best. It's crimson red laser fired wide. The emerald green medium laser beam caught the Wolverine by the edge of its right torso; its superheated beam of light only managed to tear off a fraction of the mech's thick reinforced armour, leaving it mostly unscathed.

"This little shit's gonna pay." Artemis' voice was a growl through gritted teeth, as she brought the Wolverine in for a direct collision course with the enemy, firing a salvo of SRMs at it. Alarms began to wail as excess heat began to build up in the hot desert temperature. She barely felt the heat, watching the 6 SRM missiles deliver their payload across the Hunchback's chest. It didn't matter where they hit; the shock from the missiles was all she needed.

She flipped on Mech Punch and Grab switches on both her joysticks, the mech's battle computer switching from battlemech targeting and tracking to her mech's custom finely tuned melee controls. Her Wolverine leaned forward to ram its left shoulder into the Hunchback's centre torso, the shock from the heavy impact rippling through both mechs. Artemis gripped her joysticks tight, knuckles turning white, her teeth gritted as she braced for the impact. The cockpit shook. Artemis felt shoved into her safety harness as the entire cockpit nearly lurched backward from the force.

Unfazed by the impact's shock and murder in her eyes, Artemis brought the Wolverine to withdraw from the tackle. The mech straightened to full height and cocked its right fist. With practised precision, Artemis propelled the mech's arm towards the Hunchback's head, its fist bursting forth into every mech's universal vulnerability — the cockpit canopy.

The punch hammered the mech's face, rocking its pilot's world. The fist smashed through the cockpit's armour, penetrating it and caving it in. The enemy was now very much dead. Without a pilot to balance it, the mech fell backwards from the force of the punch, crashing against the hard rock desert floor. Dust kicked up and began to cloud the view of the fallen giant.

Artemis stood over her foe as her head pounded from the blood that pumped through her system. Her chest heaved with her heavy breaths, her eyes glued to the mech's lifeless body. [i]Norman's dead.[/i] His face flashed across her mind, the face she would never again get to laugh at, the man she would never again get to laugh with, the feelings she would never again get to explore…

_This day couldn't get any worse._ She tore her eyes away from Norman's killer, then opened a comms channel on Roy's frequency. She bit her lip, almost afraid to ask. "Roy? Do you read me?"

A moment of silence passed. _Answer me dammit._ "Roy...are you there?"

Her headset crackled to life as a familiar voice filled her ears. "I read you Artemis. Where the heck are you?" She let out a sigh of relief.

"We got ambushed. Norman's… dead. What's your status?" Artemis stared at the communications panel, her fingers twiddling idly over her lap as she waited for his response with bated breath.

"We managed to take out the Spider and finish up the fight, but I've got bad news…" _This day can't get any worse. This day can't get any worse.._


End file.
